Dean's Christmas Message
by Angelustatt
Summary: Set in S4. Inspired partly by A Christmas Carol. Dean is given message about who he is and why he was saved from Hell. Oneshot.


_A/N: This fic was suggested to me by my dear mate, Hez and is therefore dedicated to her. I hope this is what she wanted. LOL I also need to thank both LovinJackson and Deb for their help and suggestions. This wouldn't have been as good without them. _

_Lastly? I just want to wish everyone out there a very Merry Christmas. May you be surrounded by love and family. _

_**xxxxxXXXXxxxxx**_

"No, Sam!"

"What? Aw come on, Dean! You're kidding, right?"

Dean Winchester flopped down into an armchair in their crappy motel room and folded his arms across his chest like a five year old. "I'm not going, dude. You want to go out and be a part of all that crap out there? Be my guest…" He unfolded his arms for a moment to wave a hand dismissively towards the door.

"All that crap?? Dean, it's Christmas Eve! What the hell is wrong with us going out and having a few drinks? Enjoying ourselves? Come on, man, it's your first Christmas since…well…you know. Can't we go out and celebrate?" Sam couldn't believe Dean was being this way. It was as if a dark cloud had settled over his brother in the past few days and nothing Sam did could shake it.

"I don't want to celebrate, Sammy. I'm tired, dude. I just want to have a shower and call it a night early, get some sleep. That's all. You wanna go out? Go…" Dean wriggled deeper into the chair, putting his feet up on the small table in front of him. "I'm good right here."

"Dean…come on." Sam was beginning to plead now, turning on the puppy dog eyes that usually worked with his brother.

"Not happening, Sammy. Sorry…go and have fun, dude." Dean waved towards the door again, then concentrated on picking up the remote and flipping through channels. He didn't bother looking up as Sam let out a sigh of defeat and grabbed his jacket from the chair, heading for the door.

Sam paused for a moment, his hand still gripping the door handle as he turned to look at his brother. Dean continued to flip through channels as though his life depended on each click of the button. Sam opened his mouth to try and plead again with Dean, then rolled his eyes at what a stubborn ass his brother was and walked out, pulling the door shut behind him.

Dean twisted in his seat and looked at the door, regretting for a moment that he had disappointed Sam. He would do anything for his brother. Take down any monster, go to Hell itself if it kept his brother breathing. Dean had done all that already, in fact.

Which was precisely why he wasn't going out to celebrate his first Christmas back from Hell. What the hell was he supposed to celebrate? That Sam wasn't dark side yet? That Lillith hadn't broken all the sixty-six seals yet and brought Hell to earth…literally?

Or maybe Dean should have been celebrating the fact he'd been plucked from Hell by God and dumped back here to watch his brother and make sure the kid stayed good. Castiel's words were still burned into Dean's mind as much as the Angel's handprint was branded onto his shoulder. Stop him or we will.

How the hell was Dean supposed to stop Sam when they needed those abilities of his? When Sam was being convinced by Ruby to use them?

Dean wanted to slap her, even if he did owe the bitch one for saving Sam's life. He wasn't stupid. There was no such thing as a free lunch. Ruby wanted something from Sam and it sure wasn't just a matter of his brother being a good screw.

The thought of that had Dean shuddering . It wasn't an image he needed to wanted to think about.

But despite everything Sam had done…it was nothing compared to what Dean had done in Hell. The souls he had tortured, shredded, made scream and weep for mercy that he couldn't give because if he did that? Alastair would have him back on the rack so fast his head would spin…and Dean couldn't do that again. He just couldn't.

The channels continued to flip by as Dean clicked the button on mental autopilot. Christmas specials flew by in a blur. Rudolph, Frosty…a Snoopy Christmas. And that wasn't even mentioning the religious movies about how it was the birth of Jesus. Dean skipped past those ones even faster. He didn't want to be thinking about God right now. He didn't want to think much about anything right now.

The less he thought, the less Dean worried about exactly why he had been saved from Hell. Why him and not one of the multitude of souls he had torn apart to save himself from it?

Why not his father for that matter? John Winchester had saved countless lives, had always put others before himself, even giving his life for Dean. Why wasn't he pulled out of Hell?

Dean couldn't understand what the hell made him so special, no matter how much Castiel might have pulled the Angel equivalent of a puppy face at him about it.

It was after the third sweep of all the known channels in the area, that Dean felt his eyes starting to slide shut on him. He shook himself and contemplated getting up and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He might not have felt like celebrating, but there was always time for beer. It helped numb everything and right now? Dean wanted that more than the nightmares he knew had to be lurking, waiting to jump him the moment he allowed sleep to claim him.

"Dean."

The voice was soft, golden almost…and unmistakable. Dean twisted in his seat sharply, the breath catching in his throat as he saw the figure before him. It couldn't be…it had to be a trick. A demon or some sort of apparition. There was no way that it was who it looked like…..

"Mom?" Dean spoke the word so quietly, it might as well have been a breath. He got to his feet, reaching for a flask of holy water in his pocket, his mind already shifting to the knife still tucked in his belt. "It can't be you."

"It's me, Dean. I've been sent to give you a message." Mary gave Dean one of the soft, dazzling smiles he had always remembered as a child. "I've come to show you something…"

"Show me what, Mom?" Dean frowned, puzzled. This couldn't be happening, could it? Dean knew he should be reacting, should be attacking this thing wearing his mother's face. But he couldn't bring himself to grab the knife.

Mary reached out slowly and pressed her hand to Dean's forehead. "Relax, Dean…you'll understand soon enough."

Everything suddenly flared white and as it faded away again, Dean found himself back in the living room of a house that was too familiar. An ache instantly set into his chest, his throat closing up. "Home? I'm home?"

There was the sound of feet rushing down the stairs behind him. Dean turned to see a small blonde boy rush down the last few steps and fly past him like he wasn't there at all, heading straight for the presents under the tree.

"Hey, slow down, Deano…they're not going anywhere." John Winchester chuckled as he came down the stairs, flanked by Mary who was taking care with each step, her hand resting on her growing belly.

Dean stood near the foot of the stairs, watching the whole scene with glassy eyes, his throat closing on him as he swallowed thickly. "My last Christmas at home…why are you showing me this?"

Mary, almost a twin of the younger woman Dean was now watching except for the sadness that seemed to radiate from her eyes, gave him a quiet smile. "To remind you of where you've come from, Dean. Who you were before the fire."

Dean watched as he tore through wrapping paper with the sort of wild enthusiasm that only a boy of nearly four could manage. There was a train set, various trucks, a small plastic plane with huge cartoon eyes that moved as you pulled it around the room. Everything that Dean could have wanted for Christmas. He could recall it all now, how excited he had been that Santa had brought him everything he'd asked for.

Before he had been thrust into a world where Santa was a myth and monsters were real.

"What do you mean who I was? I was just a kid…"

"You were more than that, Dean. Look…."

Dean watched as his younger version suddenly got to his feet and wandered over to his mother, placing his hands on her stomach and giggling as he felt movement. His tiny hands were played across Mary's stomach and such a bright, shining smile was on his face.

"Look at you, Dean. Even then, you were eager to be a big brother, so excited about meeting Sam. You couldn't wait to have him to play with. I remember the day I brought him home from the hospital. You wouldn't sleep that night until you were allowed to check on him. You just had to see with your own eyes that he was safe and sound." Mary told Dean quietly, laying a hand on his arm that felt warm and soft, like velvet brushing his skin. "You were going to be the best big brother from the moment you laid eyes on Sam. That's who you were, Dean. You have to remember that. That you have loved your brother from the day he was born…and you've always watched him, kept him safe, let him know he was loved no matter what."

Dean turned to look at Mary, as she reached up and pressed her fingers to his forehead again. The room once again flared out into white and as the light faded down again, Dean found himself back in his motel room.

Mary was gone and instead, Castiel was patiently standing near a window.

"Cas? What…what the hell's going on? Where's my mom?" Dean demanded, stepping towards the angel.

Castiel turned and regarded Dean with quiet curiosity. "You still doubt why you were brought back, Dean. Even now, you doubt your worth."

"Okay, Confucious…what's with the pep talk? If you're about to give the hard sell cause of some mission from God? No offence, but you can stick it. I'm taking the night off…it being Christmas and all.." Dean held up a hand to hold Castiel at bay.

"I need to show you something." Castiel informed him as he stepped forward. He was already lifting his hand as Dean began to protest.

"No..no way, I'm not going--…"

The room flared out and then faded into the living room of a house that Dean didn't recognise.

A young boy was handing Christmas lights up to a man on a step ladder, grinning as he watched the lights being strung around the tree. "Are these one's going to work this time?"

The man laughed and ruffled the boy's reddish brown hair affectionately. "It was one broken bulb, buddy, cut me some slack huh?"

Dean watched as the boy turned slightly, his jaw dropping open. "Lucas?"

Castiel was by his shoulder, nodding slightly towards Andrea Barr as she entered the room carrying drinks for the pair. "You and Sam saved the life of this child and his mother. Without you, neither of them would be here to enjoy this moment. A new husband and father, another child is growing inside her, though she does not know yet. A new life for them full of joy and love because you cared enough to help them, Dean."

The room suddenly vanished in an explosion of light and Dean was left blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision. This time he watched as a pretty, dark haired woman set the table for dinner while her two sons took turns in picking up their presents and shaking them. The boys giggled and nudged each other playfully before their mother's voice rang out from the dining room. "Michael and Asher, if I have to tell you again about shaking those presents…."

Dean remembered how Michael had been willing to do anything to save Asher, even putting his own life in danger. Letting himself be used as bait. Asher had been saved, but at the cost of Michael's innocence. He'd been asked to grow up fast and accept that there were monsters in the world. Something Dean had hated himself for.

"Those children are safe because of you, Dean. They are living the life intended for them, bonded by what happened, strengthened by it." Castiel stated quietly.

"I put Michael in danger…" Dean argued.

"The boy was already in danger, Dean. Do you think he would have survived, had the Striga returned for him as it was planning? You gave the boy a choice…he saved his brother. Isn't that a choice you have made countless times throughout your own life? Wouldn't you do anything for Sam?"

The room vanished again and Dean was beginning to think his retina's would melt soon from the light flaring around him. As his eyesight adjusted again, he recognised the house this time and the boy wrapping presents with his mother.

"Mom? Can we put the present under the tree again? Just in case?" The boy gave his mother a pleading look.

"Ben…honey, you sure you want to do that? What if he doesn't show?" Lisa smiled gently at her son. "I don't want you getting your heart set on something that might not happen."

"Come on, mom, we have to! Just in case. Please?"

Dean looked at Castiel, confused. "Just in case what? What's Ben hoping for?" His heart was thumping faster now as a sinking feeling set into his stomach.

"In case you should visit, Dean. The boy wishes to thank you for saving his life. There is not a day that passes, he does not think of you." Castiel stated simply. "You have saved so many lives, you and your brother. Do you not see how that reflects who you are, Dean? How you are selfless, courageous and caring? All of these children have rich, full lives ahead of them because of you. This is who you are. A hero. The one who will stand between a child and the darkness that would engulf them. You must remember this…for this is who you are."

Castiel touched his hand to Dean's forehead again and the room faded out.

The scene that greeted Dean as he opened his eyes again, was not what he was expecting at all.

There was no motel room. No room at all. The sky was red…blood red. All Dean could smell was sulphur, ash and death. It was thick, permeating everything, hanging on the air as though it was a living presence.

Bodies littered the ground, buildings burned around him. The world Dean knew was gone.

"Everything you ever worked for….gone. Destroyed."

Dean looked to his right and saw Uriel standing beside him, watching the landscape with cold, dispassionate eyes. There was blood on his face, his clothes were torn, one arm was tucked in against him in a way that told Dean the bones inside were shattered. Uriel turned to look at him. "You're nothing but a stupid mud monkey. Castiel was foolish to have put his trust in you. You were never up to the task. I should have replaced you…chosen a human with the strength to do what was needed."

"You're saying this is my fault?" Dean felt sick as he looked at the carnage and devastation around him. "Where's Cas….where's my brother? What happened here?"

"Your brother is what happened here." Uriel growled. "You were warned to stop him. But you wouldn't. You let him keep secrets from you, let him continue working with that demon slut. She drove Sam away from you. Cut him off from you…and this? This is the result of what your brother can do if he is left unchecked."

Dean shook his head. "You're lying…Sam wouldn't do this. Not my Sammy."

"You still don't get it, do you? He's no longer your Sam. No longer your brother, Dean. He became a vessel for Lucifer when Lillith broke the last seal. Now he roams the earth, ruling it and Hell. We have lost. It is over."

"The hell it is. Where's Cas, damn it?"

"Castiel is dead. He was among the first casualties in our ranks. He died saving you from your brother." Uriel spoke with utter disgust before he turned suddenly and grabbed Dean by his throat, choking him. "You failed, Dean. You failed your brother, you failed Castiel…you failed us all. This is what will come of it." He nodded towards the devastation around them. Remember this!"

"DEAN!!"

The voice awoke Dean with a start and he bolted upright from his seat, gasping for air and realising blearily, that he had been holding his breath. Sam was crouched before him, his hands grasping Dean's shirt as his wide, worried eyes watched Dean closely.

"Hey….hey! Dean, you okay? You with me? Breathe, man…" Sam kept his grip on Dean as he gave his brother a moment to adjust and wake up. "You okay?"

Dean nodded, then found his voice at last, staring at his brother as though he was a ghost. "Sammy? Is that really you?"

"Yeah, of course it is. You were having a nightmare, Dean. That's all."

"A nightmare?" Dean looked around, pausing as he looked at the clock. "Dude, you left an hour ago…what are you doing back already?"

"Are you kidding? I felt a complete idiot sitting in a bar alone on Christmas Eve, so I came back. Thought maybe we could watch a movie together or something?" Sam grinned hopefully.

"A movie? What are we dating now? Get off me, dude." Dean shoved Sam away gently and got to his feet, heading for the bathroom.

"Where are you going, Dean?" Sam let out a small huff of tired air. It seemed that even now, his brother didn't want to spend time with him. So much for Christmas.

"I'm gonna wash my face, dude and then? We're hitting that bar again until it closes…" Dean grinned at his brother. He was rewarded with a smile in return that warmed Dean inside.

Closing the bathroom door behind him, he turned on the cold water faucet and cupped his hands under it before splashing his face. Reaching for a towel, Dean looked at his reflection and found Castiel standing just to the right behind him. "Cas…personal space, dude."

"I see you have understood the message you were to be given."

"That was you? You gave me that dream?" Dean rounded on the Angel, his mood darkening.

"You could not understand why you were saved. You needed to know why. Why you of all people were chosen to be saved. It is because of who you are, Dean. What you are capable of. You have forgotten that and only recall the horrors of Hell. You do not see the strength it took to fight Alastair for so long. You do not see the strength of the sacrifices you have made in your life. How you are needed now, not just to save Sam, but everyone around you. Your brother needs you Dean. As he's always needed you." Castiel was calm but firm as he spoke, his tone all but commanding that he be heard.

"So that's it, huh? God sent you to give me that message?"

"Not only my Father, Dean. But I have a message from yours too. He wanted me to tell you this…Have faith in yourself. As he has always had in you."

Dean couldn't think for a moment. His father? His father had spoken to Castiel? Before Dean could ask anything, Castiel was gone, leaving him alone in the bathroom. Dean remained perfectly still for a moment, thinking of the dreams, his father…Sam…everything he had been shown.

Pulling open the bathroom door, Dean walked out and grabbed his jacket from the end of his bed. "Come on, Sammy. You were right, dude. We should be celebrating. Let's hit that bar huh? You and me, as much eggnog as we can stomach…and then? Well…we'll see where we end up…"

"You sure?" Sam asked, already moving forward, puzzled by this sudden change in Dean. There was a light in his eyes again, he seemed to be standing taller now. Like the darkness had been lifted somehow.

"Dude…I'm the older brother. I'm always sure." Dean slung an arm around Sam's shoulder as they stepped out the door, looking up at the light snow falling on them. "Merry Christmas….bitch."

Sam laughed, openly and warmly, grinning like a kid who'd been given everything he had wanted. "Merry Christmas, Dean…you jerk."

~~~The End~~~


End file.
